


Opening Move

by marmolita



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Boss/Employee Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Power Imbalance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 15:32:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3734086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marmolita/pseuds/marmolita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Cisco, why don't you stick around after you're done with that?  I'd like to go over the simulation results with you."</p>
<p>"Sure thing Dr. Wells."  Cisco doesn't look up from the panel he's working on, but Caitlin bumps him with her elbow as Wells leaves.  "What?"</p>
<p>"That's the kind of thing he used to say to Hartley."  She smiles at him from just one corner of her mouth.  "It probably means he wants to play chess with you.  Looks like you're the new favorite, Cisco."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Opening Move

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nicasio_silang](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicasio_silang/gifts).
  * Translation into 中文 available: [Opening Move 開局](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7151411) by [jls20011425](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jls20011425/pseuds/jls20011425)



> [Gabby](http://archiveofourown.org/users/gabby_silang) was lamenting the fact that there was not more Cisco/Wells badtouch fic out there. Challenge accepted. Technically I don't think this needs any warnings, but there is a clear power differential going on in it. Gabby, hope you like it!

"Cisco, why don't you stick around after you're done with that? I'd like to go over the simulation results with you."

"Sure thing Dr. Wells." Cisco doesn't look up from the panel he's working on, but Caitlin bumps him with her elbow as Wells leaves. "What?"

"That's the kind of thing he used to say to Hartley." She smiles at him from just one corner of her mouth. "It probably means he wants to play chess with you. Looks like you're the new favorite, Cisco."

"Huh." Cisco stares at his screen, 3D models of the accelerator spinning in front of him, then smiles. "Favorite or not, I'm just glad that dick isn't working here anymore."

"Well, have fun with Dr. Wells. Ronnie and I are meeting the florist tonight." She grabs her keys and phone and heads for the door. Cisco feels like he should have some kind of snappy comeback about florists, maybe a joke about how Ronnie smells or something, but he's still stuck on the idea of becoming Wells's favorite and the words don't come.

It doesn't take long to finish the simulation and get the data formatted, but by the time Cisco gets to Wells's office he's pretty sure everyone else at S.T.A.R. Labs has gone home except for the security guard. He knocks on the glass door as if Wells couldn't already see him coming.

"Ah, Cisco, come in," Wells says, pushing his chair back from his desk and standing.

"The simulation looks good, just like all the others. The particle accelerator is going to be _so_ awesome. Want to see the data?"

Wells laughs and gestures Cisco to the small table at the far end of his office. There's a chessboard on the table, dark wood standing out against the clean glass and metal design of the rest of the lab. "Actually I thought perhaps we could play a game of chess. What do you say?"

"Sure! I mean, I'm not very good at chess. I uh . . . actually I only kind of barely know the rules, but I'm a fast learner!" Cisco sits down before he has to start worrying about where to put his hands. Wells laughs at him again and Cisco feels his cheeks flush.

"Don't worry about it, I enjoy teaching novices as much as sparring with an expert." Wells sits down across from him and rotates the board so that the white chess pieces are on Cisco's side. "Your move, Mr. Ramon."

It's a short game. Cisco loses, of course. They play a few more times, and Wells seems pleased with Cisco's progress since it takes a little bit longer for him to lose each time. He yawns as Wells resets the board after their fifth game, and Wells glances at him out of the corner of his eye. Cisco closes his mouth, embarrassed, but Wells just smiles his inscrutable smile and removes his glasses to wipe them with a cloth from his pocket.

"You must be tired; I shouldn't have kept you so late."

"Oh no, I'm fine, I really enjoyed it, even if you kicked my ass the whole time."

Wells stands up and rests his hand on Cisco's shoulder, fingers wrapping down over his chest. "You're a very promising student, Cisco. Let's do this again."

"Yeah, that'd be-- that'd be great."

Wells's hand slips a little further down Cisco's chest and he gives him a light pat as he steps away. "Get some rest and I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight, Cisco."

Cisco feels awkwardly dismissed, but he grabs his backpack.

"Goodnight, Dr. Wells."

***

The chess games become a regular thing, every couple days. More often than not Wells has some sort of fancy liquor to share, and Cisco finds himself opening up in a way he never thought he would be able to with a boss -- especially considering his boss is _the_ Harrison Wells. He tells Wells about his family, his childhood. He even bitches about Hartley a little and it feels good to get it out even though he knows Wells liked the guy.

Sometimes they only play one game, then move over to the small sofa and sit together, drinking and talking, or watching Cisco's favorite cartoons on his tablet. Cisco's not sure exactly how the topic of cartoons came up the first time, but they've been going through all of his favorites and somehow Wells hasn't seen any of them. He supposes that's not surprising given the type of man Wells is -- you don't really imagine a serious, dedicated scientist sitting around at home watching Bugs Bunny.

Cisco never quite feels like he's a serious, dedicated scientist himself, as much as he tries to be. Maybe that's why he doesn't ever try to hide his love of science fiction, or dress in suits, or anything that would make him look too professional: it would just hurt that much more when people don't take him seriously.

But Dr. Wells takes him seriously, and Cisco loves this job, and he loves his evenings with his boss. They order delivery sometimes and laugh at the delivery person getting lost in the confusing maze of S.T.A.R. Labs trying to find their office. (Cisco takes pity on them most of the time and meets them in the lobby.)

It's one of those nights when they've just finished eating, plastic takeout boxes strewn across the table, Cisco curled up on one end of the sofa and Wells sitting with his legs sprawled wide on the other end, when Wells asks him, "Do you have a significant other, Cisco?"

"Um. Not at the moment." His love life, or lack of one, has always been a sensitive topic for Cisco, and he has to stop himself from physically drawing in like a snail into its shell. "Why do you ask?"

"I was just thinking that a handsome young man like yourself probably has much better places to be on a Friday night than hanging around with his boss, though I hope you consider me a friend as well."

"Of course!" Cisco blurts out, then shuts his mouth and reconsiders what he just said. "I mean, of course I consider you a friend, not of course I have better places to be, because I don't, really. Have places to be."

Wells laughs the way Wells always laughs at him, like Cisco is a constant source of amusement to him. A good kind of amusement, though, not like the mocking laughter Cisco always had from his brother growing up. It makes him feel warm and comfortable inside, special in a way that he never felt from his parents.

***

The night before the accelerator is set to start up, Cisco runs test after test on the equipment. He checks, double-checks, and triple-checks everything, walking up and down the length of the accelerator, even though he's already done it several times a day for the last month. He knows he should probably go home and get some rest, but he's way too amped up to even think about sleep.

He's deep into reanalyzing simulation data for the fifteenth time when a delicious smell distracts him. "Is that Korean barbecue?" he asks, turning around.

Dr. Wells is standing behind him, holding a paper takeout bag. "Care to join me?" Cisco's stomach growls and he realizes it's nearly midnight and he hasn't eaten since breakfast.

They sit down on the sofa in Wells's office and Cisco devours his food so fast it takes a few minutes for his stomach to catch up and realize that he's full. It also takes a few minutes for him to realize he's been pretty rude by sitting here stuffing his face without saying a word, but Wells is just watching him with a small smile on his lips.

"Thanks, Dr. Wells, I guess I'm just so nervous about tomorrow I forgot about dinner entirely."

"Not a problem, Cisco. I admit I'm fairly nervous myself. It's going to be a big day for all of us."

"How do you keep it together? I have no idea how I'm going to sleep tonight. I feel like my brain is running a mile a minute and isn't going to slow down until it's all over."

Wells is thoughtful for a moment, then leans closer and puts his hand on Cisco's leg, just above his knee. "Do you trust me, Cisco?"

"Of course I do, and I know we ran the simulations a hundred times, I just--" Wells's hand slides further up Cisco's thigh, and Cisco's mouth snaps shut. "What are you doing?"

"I find there's only one reliable way to deal with nerves the day before a big experiment." Wells puts his other hand on the back of the sofa beside Cisco's shoulder, and leans in. "If you want me to stop say so, but I'm fairly certain you've thought about this before. I know I have."

Cisco swallows. He _has_ thought about this, about Wells, quite a bit actually, but Wells is his _boss_ , and . . . and Wells's hand has slid all the way up to his hip, and is moving toward Cisco's crotch, and he can't breathe, can't move, because _Harrison Wells_ is about to touch his dick and jesus christ if that isn't the craziest thing to happen in his entire life he's not sure what is.

He lets his breath out in a quiet whoosh when Wells finally gets to his target and starts gently rubbing him through his jeans. Cisco licks his lips, stares at Wells's lips, thinks about kissing him, but there's a line here and he's not sure he can cross it and not sure if he should. His dick starts to get hard and Wells smiles and unbuttons Cisco's fly.

It doesn't take long, Cisco leaning back on the sofa and closing his eyes against the absurdity of the moment, clutching the cushions to stop himself from taking too many liberties and touching Wells while he gives him probably the best hand job of his life. When it's over and Cisco opens his eyes again, Wells is still leaning over him, watching him intently, smiling. "Beautiful," Wells says as he stands up and reaches over for some takeout napkins to clean up.

He offers a napkin to Cisco and Cisco can't imagine what he even looks like right now, flushed and breathing heavy, his jeans open, cum and sweat on his underwear and even some on his shirt. He hasn't felt so embarrassed about sex since he finished too soon the night he lost his virginity. Still, he cleans himself up as best he can, gets his clothes back in place, and looks up to see Wells leaning back against his desk with an impressive erection filling out his slacks.

"Can I . . . return the favor?" The words sound ridiculous but Cisco's not sure what to say, and he doesn't feel like he can do anything unless Wells gives him permission.

Wells straightens up slightly. "Please."

Cisco has put a lot of effort into impressing Dr. Wells over the past year and he doesn't want to disappoint him now. He tentatively unbuckles Wells's belt, opens his fly, and pushes his slacks and briefs down his thighs, then licks his lips and sinks to his knees.

It's not his first time giving a blowjob, but he generally prefers women and doesn't have as much experience with men. Still, he remembers to keep his teeth out of the way, remembers to try that thing with his tongue that his sophomore year lab partner liked so much, and keeps a steady rhythm. Wells doesn't give up much -- he holds his hips still, breathing hitching now and then but quiet and more or less steady. Cisco almost wishes Wells would just fuck his mouth; at least then he'd know he was doing the right thing.

His jaw is starting to ache and spit is dripping into Wells's slacks when Wells reaches down and puts a hand on the side of Cisco's head, tangling in his hair. Cisco makes a small noise in the back of his throat and Wells breathes a little faster. "Yes, just like that," he says, pulling Cisco down so that his dick hits the back of Cisco's throat. Cisco adds his hand beneath his lips, twisting on every upstroke, and is finally rewarded by Wells's breathing becoming harsh and ragged.

It's not much longer until Wells is releasing into Cisco's mouth with a soft grunt, hand tight in Cisco's hair holding him in place. Cisco swallows convulsively, coughing a little when Wells finally lets him go. He grabs a bottle of water left over from dinner off the desk and drinks deeply to clear the taste out of his mouth, while Wells tucks himself back into his pants and buckles his belt.

Wells looks just like he did when he came in to work this morning without a sign of anything out of place, but Cisco feels incongruously messy, his hair tangled up, cum stains on his shirt, and his boxers getting clammy from sweat and sticking to his thighs. Still, Wells smiles at him just like he always does, so Cisco smiles back.

"Go home and get some sleep, Cisco. Tomorrow is the beginning of a new era." The lights reflect off his glasses and for a moment his eyes are obscured. "Things are going to change, for all of us."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [destronomics](http://archiveofourown.org/users/destronomics) for sanity checking this for me.


End file.
